Always Torn In Two
by Expecting Rain
Summary: Quote: "I think we two understand each other better than any may think." Five years into the Fourth Age, Sam and Legolas have a conversation about Frodo and the sea.


**A/N:** This story is similar in topic (sea-longing) to another one I have posted, "Waves Like the Sea," but different otherwise, I think.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _The Lord of the Rings._

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**Always Torn In Two**

"_Do not be too sad, Sam. You cannot always be torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do."_

_-Frodo, from __The Return of the King __by J.R.R. Tolkien_

It was wonderful to see old friends and all, but to tell the truth, Sam Gamgee was really rather glad when his wife Rosie asked him to put the three little ones to bed; Rosie herself was busy with baby Merry. Sam's gladness was not due to the fact that Elanor, Frodo, and little Rosie went to bed easily – in fact, they were all enamored with the guests and it was quite a struggle to convince them that they would still be there in the morning. Sam wasn't sure if Elanor stared at Legolas more than little Rosie stared at Gimli, but there was certainly too much staring going on altogether, in Sam's opinion.

Not that the guests seemed to mind. Legolas had even taken Elanor upon his knee and had sung her what he said was a song of Lorien, of the _elanor _and the _niphredil_ below the _mallorn_ trees. It did sound like Lorien, too – beautiful and safe and untouched by the rest of the world. Even baby Merry stopped his fussing and listened. And the wonder didn't stop there; all the stories Legolas and Gimli relayed were scarcely believable, and Sam felt he could never tire of hearing new tales. It wasn't the new tales that bothered him.

The others, especially Pippin and Merry, used the occasion to retell all the stories of their Quest; for, as Gimli said, "We're only missing Aragorn, and that's his own fault – he'll never see the inside of a hobbit-hole, by his own decree."

They were only missing Aragorn – the thought sobered Sam more than it did the other four. Was this really all there was left of the Nine Companions? With the five of them together, even without talk of the Quest, Sam was painfully aware of the missing spaces, and not just Strider's either: Boromir, and Gandalf, and especially Frodo should be here with them.

He was glad to see Legolas and Gimli again, gladder than words could tell, but their presence made Sam face the fact that Frodo was gone.

It hadn't been easy, the past six years, though Lord knew that life with Rosie was as close to paradise as he could find in this world. He loved her dearly, and Elanor and Frodo and little Rosie and baby Merry – but there was always some small part of him not quite satisfied. Some part of him ached with loneliness for the loss of Frodo.

A better master, a better companion, a better _friend_ Sam could not believe existed. He kissed little Frodo twice in remembrance of his namesake - though little Frodo looked just like Rosie's family, the Cottons, there was something in his manner that reminded Sam of Frodo Baggins – and turned to see Rosie at the door.

"How are you?" she murmured before kissing him softly on the lips.

Sam said nothing, but closed the door to little Frodo's room. "I miss him," Sam admitted in a whisper, pulling Rosie close to him in an effort to fill the hole in his heart. She held him tightly for a time, then gently loosened her arms and pushed him in the direction of the living-room. "Your friends are waiting," she said gently.

Sam meant to rejoin them, but just before he turned the corner to the short tunnel that would lead him from the kitchen to the living room, he heard them talking.

"Sharkey's End!" Gimli shouted, chortling. He had obviously had a few pints too many. "So you hobbits got your songs sung even in your own home!"

"Oh yes, we're quite famous these days," Pippin said, his words distorted from speaking around a pipe. "Even Sam – well, you've heard, he's Mayor now. It was a bit of work to get him to run, but he's done it. Samwise the Brave they call him, even here."

"And we're the Tall Travelers," Merry laughed. "We beat old Bullroarer, thanks to Treebeard's Ent-drink!"

Gimli chucked. "And Frodo?" he asked.

There was an awkward moment as the two hobbits considered the subject.

"Frodo – now, Frodo didn't want to fight," Merry said finally. "And it's because of him that we managed to miss Saruman's curse, and it's because of him that more hobbits weren't killed. But nobody but us ever seemed to realize that. They have no idea what he did for them, I'm afraid."

"How was he, then, after?" Gimli asked.

Sam leaned against the tunnel wall and closed his eyes, feeling tears well up. He couldn't do this. Not now, not yet. He backtracked through the tunnel and took another turn that led to his garden. Just a few minutes with his carrots and taters would surely calm him, and by that time the others would have moved on to other subjects, subjects Sam could talk about.

He came outside at just the right moment. The sky was all lit up in oranges and reds and purples in the very end of a sunset. Sam was so entranced that it was nearly a full minute before he realized that he wasn't the only one in his garden.

There was a half-seen glint of gold out of the corner of his eye. He turned. "Legolas?"

The Elf was standing _on top _of Bag End, staring off into the sunset, a faraway look in his blue-grey eyes. He did not seem to hear Sam.

"Legolas?" Sam tried again. "Legolas!"

The Elf made no response. Beginning to feel a bit worried, Sam began to climb the side of Bag End. It was hard work, for the hill was quite steep and Sam was careful to make no mark on the grassy sides. He was red-faced and panting with effort when he finally clambered up. Legolas was still staring off into the distance.

"Legolas?" Sam tried again, tugging on the Elf's sleeve.

Legolas started and turned to Sam. "Forgive me," he said with a small nod. "I – forgot myself."

"Is it…the sea?" Sam asked cautiously. He knew very little about the sea-longing, as the Elves called it, but he head heard Legolas speak of it in Gondor after the War, and at Aragorn's coronation Gildor had told Sam that Legolas would likely sail soon.

Sam had not seen Legolas since the Fellowship parted ways six years before, but the Legolas he knew would not have, well, "lost himself," as the Elf put it. This sea-longing must be something more serious than he had thought.

"Aye," Legolas said with a sort of half-smile. "Please, do not tell the Dwarf. He will be angry that I escaped his watch and he will not let me out of his sight until we are far inland."

"Do you want to go inside?" Sam ventured, not quite sure what to say. Legolas certainly didn't seem afflicted, now that his attention was back on Sam. Indeed, his Elvish gaze was making Sam rather uncomfortable.

"Not particularly," Legolas answered easily, "as I believe they will still be smoking. Do you?"

Sam shook his head. Legolas, after peering off into the West for another moment, sat down. Sam quickly followed suit – he had never been much for heights, even the modest height of Bag End. The Elf and the hobbit sat in companionable silence for a time, until Legolas began to quietly hum a tune that made Sam's heart ache. He hardly noticed the tears streaming down his face until the song stopped abruptly and Legolas asked worriedly, "Sam, are you well?"

Sam nodded and swiped his face with his sleeve.

"I think we two understand each other better than any may think," Legolas said after a moment. He paused. "You will see him again, Sam."

Sam gaped, his thoughts running to elf-eyes and elf-magic, though he had long ago learned that Legolas, at least, had no such powers. "How did you – "

"My mind also turns West, Sam," Legolas said quietly. "You are very near. When the sun is right, I can see it glint off the towers, gateways to the Grey Havens which are the passage to Elvenhome." He fell silent, staring off into the West with a look which worried Sam. "How can you bear it?" the Elf asked under his breath, almost to himself. The question was frank and rather desperate, colored by a kind of need that Sam recognized in himself.

"I've got Rosie," he said. "And the little ones. Still, I've started once or twice – well, more than that, really – but it's at least four days' travel and I can't get more than a day before I start missing them and have to turn back."

"And how long, then, until you begin to miss Frodo and set off again?" Legolas asked quietly, honest curiosity in his voice.

Sam squirmed and studied his feet. "Depends," he said. "Couple months, at least. Once, more than a year." He looked back up at Legolas' face, which, even glowing in the light of the setting sun, seemed kind and understanding and, well, _closer_ than Sam had ever seen him look before.

"I'm worried," Sam confessed for the first time, "I'm worried that one day I won't remember Rosie until it's too late."

"The Shipwright would not let you pass as such," Legolas said. "But I know of what you speak. I too worry that my heart will pull me to leave ere my mind would have it."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, thoroughly confused.

"I mean to be the last," Legolas said quietly. "Many years ago I swore to Aragorn that I would not leave Middle-Earth while he yet lived. He has released me from that promise, but I have not. And now, if I can, I would do the same for Gimli. But always the sea calls to me. It is a trial I do not know if I can overcome."

Sam was nodding. "It's hard, cruel hard," he said in anguish. "I can't have the thing I want most in the world without losing the other." Tears were pricking at his eyes again and he turned away from Legolas' gaze.

"Ai, I think we understand each other all too well, _elvellon_," Legolas said with a sigh. "But it is not yet our time. We must wait, and live, and keep our thoughts with the ones who love us here. And one day, when those who we love no longer need us, we will leave all thoughts of this world behind and sail over the sea to Valinor, where peace will at last be ours."

"And I'll see Mr. Frodo again," Sam said, choking on his sobs.

"Aye," Legolas said, so quietly that Sam could barely hear him. "And I will not see Aragorn, not until all the ages of this world are past."

Sam wiped at his eyes again, grateful for the growing darkness. He felt a bit embarrassed, blubbering in front of an Elf like that, but he somehow guessed that Legolas was feeling just as lost as he.

"Look," said Legolas finally, pointing a long hand to the darkening sky. "Earendil still sails. And from thence we draw hope, for Iluvatar will make all things right in the end. We must trust in the Valar and believe that one day we will be whole again."

"You're right, Mr. Legolas," Sam said, staring into the sky. The starlight seemed to strengthen him, just as in Mordor the Galadriel's phial had given him the courage to go on. "And I think there's some inside that still need us."

"Aye, there are," Legolas said, rising. "And, I think, we still need them."

"We do," Sam said, thinking of Rosie and Elanor and little Frodo and little Rosie and baby Merry. As they began to make their way down the hill, Legolas' clear voice rose in a song that, though he knew not what the words meant, filled Sam's heart with hope and joy.

"_A Elbereth Gilthoniel_

_Silivren penna miriel_

_O menel aglar elenath_

_Na-chaered palan-diriel_

_O galadhremmin ennorath,_

_Fanuilios, le linnathon_

_nef aer, si nef aeron!"_

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**The End.** _Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think!_


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